Men of Power. Кэрол Мортимер
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kissing her with all the love he had inside him for this beautiful, forgiving woman.
He still had a lot to learn about love, but he didn’t doubt that Kenzie would show him how, together, in honesty and trust, the two of them could do anything…
‘Can we live at Bedforth Manor?’ Kenzie asked him a long time later. ‘I absolutely love the house. And the pool-house. It’s where our baby was conceived, after all,’ she added teasingly, the two of them now snuggled up together on the sofa, Dominick’s arms about her as he held her tightly against him.
‘I don’t care where I live as long as I’m with you,’ Dominick stated fiercely, knowing a happiness that he had never believed possible, the past gone now as he realized at long last that to be truly happy he had to give love as well as receive it.
And he loved Kenzie more than life itself.
Their baby was the result of that love. And their child would grow up knowing its parents loved it as much as they loved each other.
‘Why don’t we arrange to renew our wedding vows? In the same church where your sisters were all married?’ he encouraged softly, loving the silky feel of her hair as he caressed the smooth darkness.
Kenzie turned to look up at him. ‘Would you really like that…?’
‘Yes, I would,’ he assured her without hesitation. ‘I would like to do this properly this time, Kenzie. Most of all I would like to share promising to love you for the rest of our lives with all of your family.’
‘Then that’s what we’ll do,’ she agreed, overwhelmed with the happiness they had now found together.
Dominick smiled down at her. ‘I’ve also been thinking that I might like to buy an estate agency in Worcestershire…In the name of a company, so that your father doesn’t realize it’s me, of course. What do you think?’
She kissed him lightly on the lips. ‘I think you had better not reform too much, Dominick, or I won’t recognize you any more!’ she teased lovingly.
‘Hmm,’ he murmured, his own face softened with the same emotion. ‘Perhaps we should go into the bedroom and refresh our memories…?’
‘Perhaps we should.’ Kenzie stood up, holding out her hand to him. ‘There’s more than one way of renewing our vows to each other,’ she whispered huskily as the two of them walked hand in hand to the bedroom.
Their daughter, Sophie Louise, was born eight months later, tears of happiness falling down Dominick’s cheeks as the tiny miracle was placed into his arms.
She was so beautiful, this daughter of his.
So perfect.
So exactly like her mother in every way he decided as he looked lovingly at Kenzie.
The love of his life…
The Italian Tycoon and the Nanny
Rebecca Winters
REBECCA WINTERS, whose family of four children has now swelled to include three beautiful grandchildren, lives in Salt Lake City, Utah, in the land of the Rocky Mountains. With canyons and high alpine meadows full of wildflowers, she never runs out of places to explore. They, plus her favorite vacation spots in Europe, often end up as backgrounds for her romance novels. Writing is her passion, along with her family and church. Rebecca loves to hear from her readers. If you wish to e-mail her, please visit her website at www.cleanromances.com.
THE phone in Massimo’s pocket rang, but this time he didn’t answer it. What part of no didn’t Gillian Pittman understand? She was the only female professor in the group and could have her pick of a dozen men. But she’d set her sights on Massimo, and he didn’t return the compliment.
When he wanted feminine companionship, he spent the odd weekend in Mexico City or Positano with his favorite person, Cesar, who happened to be reigning champion of the Grand Prix. His second cousin’s addiction to racing ensured plenty of women for both of them.
After a grueling workday, he craved a tall glass of ice water followed by a long hot and cold running shower that operated at maximum pressure. Too bad no such luxuries awaited him in the tent he’d called home for the past two years.
It was no bigger than a large, airless closet. Set in the heart of the Petén forest of Guatemala, it offered little more than a place to eat, sleep and record his findings.
The professional teams working at the Cancuen dig site lived in a compound on the other side of the Mayan palace they were excavating. It offered a few more amenities. But he’d come here on his own in an unofficial capacity. To join them after hours meant sacrificing his privacy, something he wasn’t prepared to do.
As he undid the lid on a bottle of water, his phone beeped. Irritated by the intrusion, he drained the contents before checking to see what was so important Dr. Pittman had resorted to sending him a text message. But a quick glance revealed it was Sansone who’d been trying to reach him.
An ominous presentiment stole through his body.
In the twenty-four months he’d been gone, he’d never received a phone call from his oldest cousin, let alone a text message. Sansone disliked him too intensely for that.
Steeling himself to deal with it, he pushed the button and read, Tragic news, Massimo. Call me immediately.
The word tragic had a specific connotation he couldn’t in all conscience ignore. Had his uncle been injured? Or worse?
In that moment before he called his cousin back, the sweat poured off him faster than when he was subjected to the sun’s full intensity.
“What’s happened?” he asked, the second he heard Sansone’s voice.
“Papa had news that caused him to collapse. The doctor’s with him, so he asked me to phone you.”
He wouldn’t put it past his uncle Aldo to pretend he was ill to gain Massimo’s sympathy. This could be a manipulative ploy on his uncle’s part to get him to come home.
Massimo wasn’t ready to do that. Something earthshaking would have to happen first.
“What news might that be?”
After an uncharacteristic hesitation he said, “It’s about Pietra.”
With the mention of Massimo’s sister, the air froze in his lungs. “What about her?”
“Her father-in-law called to tell Papa that she and his son were killed in a car accident earlier today.”
Killed—
Pietra?
He reeled. Breathtaking pain shot through him.
“And the baby?” he demanded savagely.
“I don’t know. Papa didn—”
Massimo hung up, unwilling for Sansone to hear any part of his grief.
“I’m afraid I have to be in Portland tomorrow for the beginning of that three-day conference, Julie. Let me know the day and time of the funeral. I’ll try to arrange a flight from there.”
When Brent sounded preoccupied, it meant he was sitting in front of his computer doing work. Somehow Julie had expected more from the man who professed to love her.
She